Living in the middle of Australia's desolate landscape, Angela has been waiting all her life. Waiting for her boyfriend to return from the army and marry her, waiting for her mother to sober up, waiting for her life to begin. On the return of her boyfriend Will, Angela looks around at her bleak surroundings, her friends with their unplanned pregnancies, desperate marriages, and dead-end jobs and realizes that she cannot spend the rest of her life in a small town with no future. As Will prepares to return to the army and her mother prepares to move in with yet another man, Angela makes a decision that will change her life forever.
When you first hear that there is a series on Netflix where the lead character’s wife dies from cancer and he becomes dangerously suicidal, you wouldn’t immediately assume that it’s a comedy.
Him is visually stunning—all concrete cathedrals and bone-rattling impact shots that look like a nightmare highlight reel. Marlon Wayans is magnetic as this legendary quarterback who's basically selling salvation with a smile that never quite reaches his eyes. But the story keeps running in circles: more tests, more cryptic pep talks, more ritualistic drills. The sports-as-religion metaphor beats you over the head when subtlety would've been more effective. The middle drags, and that finale chooses spectacle over substance. It's undeniably stylish, but left me cold. Also worth noting: despite the Monkeypaw connection, this isn't actually a Jordan Peele film—he didn't write or direct.
In the film adaptation, director Jon M. Chu turns each musical number into a massive show stopper, with grand set pieces and a wealth of diverse dancers. Yet, in this attempt to show reverence for the people of the Washington Heights barrio, Chu, or maybe more specifically those in charge of casting, left out a crucial part of the community, Afro-Latinos.
This reboot of The Wonder Years is told from the lens of a Black man.
I’m still trying to comprehend the psychological and moral implications of their fascination with each other, or why their almost written-in-the-stars depth of connection makes so much sense.
A bumpy journey about revolution and family makes us feel fear, disgust, humor, and satisfaction.
